Skipped Stones
by TereC
Summary: S/J -- Trapped in an alternate universe, can Sam get them home again?


TITLE: Skipped Stones  
  
AUTHOR: Tere C  
  
EMAIL: tere_c@cliffhanger.com  
  
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, UST, Mild Angst  
  
PAIRING: Sam/Jack  
  
SPOILERS: Solitudes, Into the Fire, Divide & Conquer, Scorched Earth, Entity, Ascension  
  
SEASON / SEQUEL: Takes place in Season 5 sometime after The Fifth Man  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
CONTENT WARNINGS: mild language (hey, that's Jack for you)  
  
SUMMARY: Don't want to give it away ;)  
  
STATUS: Complete  
  
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis and Fanfiction.net  
  
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The situations and original story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to my friends, the Starguide Forum Ladies, for their help with my questions about the SGC's layout and letting me throw ideas out for discussion. And (in no particular order) huge hugs go to Major Clanger, Kat, and Sazz for all of their assistance. I didn't start out for this to be particularly shippy, but the characters wouldn't cooperate. They insisted that the story turn out the way it did. Thanks to the Dave Matthews Band. Their CD, Everyday, was my inspiration for this story—particularly When the World Ends, The Space Between, If I Had It All, and Angel—while not quoted or mentioned within this story, these songs provided the flavor to this tale  
  
PL3-93X  
  
The team ran through the thick underbrush dodging a heavy laser-like assault from an unknown, unseen enemy. The air weighed thick and heavy from the acrid smoke of the burning forest set alight by scorching laser bursts. Jack led the way, Carter and Daniel followed close behind with Teal'c bringing up the rear, sporadically firing his staff weapon in an effort to stop their attackers. The terrifying explosions from the laser volley set ablaze the enveloping foliage. Overhead, molten fire dripped from the canopy of limbs and branches.  
  
Breaking free from the woods, the team rushed into a small clearing. A jumble of decaying rocks and ancient ruins surrounded their only means of escape—the Stargate.  
  
"Daniel! Dial us home!" Jack ordered over the din, taking up a defensive position behind a pile of stone pillars near the base of the gate. "Carter, you're with me!" She skittered over the debris to hunker down beside him. They peppered the forest with bullets while Teal'c continued to cover Daniel's back with his staff weapon.  
  
Daniel scanned the DHD for the coordinates to Earth as the laser assault intensified. Choking dust and chunks of rock showered down on him following the demolition of a towering pillar by a laser blast. "Crap!" Daniel yelled, using his body to shield the DHD—if it were damaged, no one would be going home.  
  
"Daniel! Hurry it up!" Jack urged.  
  
"I'm trying, Jack!" he said, choking on the dust. He depressed the final symbols. The center stone of the DHD glowed red and Daniel placed his hand on it to activate the Stargate.  
  
"Duck!" Jack yelled to Sam, shoving her head down with his hand when the gate engaged. The familiar swoosh of the liquid-like swirling vortex expanded into the space they'd vacated. Sam punched in SG-1's IDC to open the iris when the wormhole stabilized. Jack continued to shoot into the trees at their unseen enemy. "Teal'c! Daniel! Go—get outta here!" he ordered hoarsely, the heavy smoke thickening his voice.  
  
Jack and Sam provided cover fire while their teammates ran up the steps and dove through the gate's shimmering surface. Jack glanced over his shoulder at the gate to make sure Teal'c and Daniel had made it through. He cringed when he realized that the laser-like explosions pummeling them were increasing in intensity—like that was possible! Shrapnel and debris continued to batter Sam and him.  
  
"Sir!" Sam shouted over the battle noise, "It's now or never!"  
  
Jack nodded. "On the count of three—" Suddenly, a barrage of laserblasts began to assault them. Shit. "One—two," Jack grabbed Sam and pulled her with him through the event horizon milliseconds before an enormous energy pulse hit the Stargate.  
  
************  
  
Oww!  
  
That was the first thing Sam thought.  
  
I can't . . . breathe.  
  
That was the next. She struggled to take a deep breath. Bad idea. White hot pain wracked her chest. A dead weight crushed her into cold, biting metal beneath her. She tried to raise her arms, but they, too, were trapped.  
  
Where am I?  
  
She opened her eyes. Black. She blinked several times. Total darkness. Sam turned her head from side to side, trying to see something. Anything. It wasn't just dark; it was an inky, pitch black. So dark, in fact, that she couldn't tell if there was indeed an absence of light or if she'd been blinded.  
  
Disoriented, Sam realized that she was laying on a strong decline. As she struggled to move, the backpack clipped to her utility vest dug painfully into her spine, sandwiched as it was between her and the sloping metallic ground.  
  
The ramp in the gate room?  
  
"Colonel?" she croaked.  
  
No response.  
  
"Daniel? Teal'c?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
Where the hell were they? Sam fought the roiling urge to panic, mentally counting to quash her terrible suspicion that she was completely alone. Think it through, Carter.  
  
She and the colonel had traveled through the wormhole at the same time. He had to be here. Dragging in a slower, deeper breath and blinking back the stinging tears that came with it, Sam tried again, but this time with more force. "Colonel O'Neill?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Jack!" she yelped. She never called him by his first name. If that didn't get him . . . well, she didn't want to think of if.  
  
Sam felt the hulking mass lying across her chest begin to move, and she bit back the urge to cry out when spasms of pain shot through her ribcage. A distinctly masculine moan vibrated against her chest. Thank God. At least she wasn't alone. "Colonel?"  
  
"Carter?" he mumbled.  
  
"Under you, sir."  
  
Sam again felt his weight shift over her and his hands move and . . . "Sir!"  
  
"Oh, sorry, Carter." He groped for a firm surface that wasn't Carter. He finally succeeded, planting his palms on the metal grating beneath her. Pressing up, Jack eased his weight from her chest. Carter gasped in pain, her body rebelling against the release of pressure. Starved for air, she greedily gulped in the dampness that surrounded them.  
  
"What's with the lights?" Jack asked, rising to his knees. Accompanied by a resounding pop, a sudden sharp pain shot through his knee. "Oh, man!" he groaned.  
  
"Colonel?"  
  
"My knee. My. . . damned . . . knee." He clutched at his knee, sucking air through clenched teeth.  
  
Sam could hear his ragged breathing next to her. He needed help, and she was helpless to assist. Still on her back and trapped by her backpack, she felt like a turtle. She tried to sit up only to be rewarded by shards of pain stabbing across her chest and shoulders. Oh, God, this hurts, she thought.  
  
"Colonel. Sorry, s-sir, but . . . n-need some help . . . here," she regretted asking, but she had no choice. She heard him groan and move, and then felt his hands groping for her.  
  
"Carter, what's wrong?" he asked. He found her outstretched hand and clasped it tightly.  
  
"I can't get up. My pack," she said. "And it h-hurts . . . to breathe."  
  
Jack gently trailed his fingers up her arm and across her shoulder searching for the plastic latch. Finding it, he pinched the release and then searched for the second clip. He squeezed and tugged, but it wouldn't release. Sam heard the rip of Velcro and the grate of his knife opening. Slipping his fingers between the clip and her vest, he sliced the nylon webbing in two.  
  
"Roll toward me," he ordered. "Easy, easy. Go slow." He helped her transfer her weight off of her back and onto to him. Gritting her teeth and challenging herself to not cry out, Sam pushed herself into a kneeling position, wrapping her arms protectively about her chest. She winced at the movement.  
  
"Better?"  
  
"A little," she lied.  
  
"Need to get you to the infirmary," Jack said, stating the obvious. "Daniel! Teal'c?" His voice echoed through the emptiness.  
  
"Done that, sir. Not here."  
  
"We'll find them, Major."  
  
Where the hell is everyone? Jack thought. Well, he was definitely sitting on the metal ramp that led to the SGC's gate. He fumbled for the flashlight strapped to his utility belt. Crap. Broken. He flung it away, sending it clattering across the concrete floor. He peered into the darkness, searching for clues, details, anything.  
  
No emergency lighting. Very odd. Even when he'd flipped the emergency cut- off of the facility's power when that alien life form had invaded the computer system, they'd had battery-powered emergency lighting. What had happened here?  
  
He could hear Carter struggling to calm her own breathing. She needed medical attention . . . and soon. Wincing at the throbbing in his knee, he figured he should be looked at too. Right now, it appeared that they were going to have to get to the infirmary on their own. But first, they needed light.  
  
"Carter, where's your flashlight?"  
  
"In my pack—s'probably busted, sir."  
  
"Well, no harm in looking," he said, trying to seem unconcerned. Which couldn't be more from the truth. The hairs on his neck were tingling. Not a good sign. Jack deftly opened the plastic latches and rummaged inside the pack. He flicked the flashlight's switch back and forth. Nothing.  
  
No.  
  
He slapped it hard against the palm of his hand and clicked the switch again. A weak beam sliced through the darkness.  
  
Yes.  
  
He directed the flickering light methodically around the room.  
  
Okay, O'Neill, think, he chastised. Focus on the immediate rather than the personal. It's hard, but not impossible. What do you see?  
  
No Daniel.  
  
No Teal'c.  
  
No signs of life.  
  
The sliding door accessing the corridor sat uncharacteristically open.  
  
Well, at least we aren't stuck in here. That's something.  
  
The emergency power disconnect was still in the 'on' position. The power hadn't been shut off here.  
  
His flashlight traveled full-circle, coming back to the silent gate. It looked naked without its protective iris in its normally closed position.  
  
"Well, it sure looks like home," Jack said. He closed the latches on her pack and glanced at Sam, pale and drawn under smoke smudges and battle grime. Her eyes were large and dark, heavy with unshed tears. She was hurting way more than she let on. Careful of his injured knee, he stood and said, "Come on, Dorothy."  
  
"Sir?" she blinked up at Jack to see his hand extended. She grasped it and let him help her up.  
  
"The infirmary first, then we'll see what's happened to the Emerald City." He wasn't looking forward to what they might find along the way.  
  
*******  
  
Why did the infirmary have to be six levels away from the gate room anyway? Jack wondered. He'd have to talk to Hammond about relocating it. If they ever found Hammond or the rest of the SGC's personnel. Six levels of climbing stairs on his strained knee. Well, things could be worse. They could have encountered alien resistance along the way. Things could have been better, too. Like running into people--people would be nice. Daniel. Teal'c. Hell, even Frasier and her needles—he wasn't picky. As it was, Jack figured he'd have to play doctor. Carter certainly wouldn't be able to this time. That was obvious in the gateroom. Jack couldn't decide if playing doctor fell in the better or worse category. He'd figure that out later.  
  
Jack fought the urge to limp and kept alert to anything that might show up in the darkened corridors as they made their way to the infirmary. Sam's semi-crushed flashlight was browning out by the time they made it there, eerily casting a thin flickering beam on the infirmary door. He looked down at Sam, pain etched across her shadowed face. Worried, Jack opened the door for Sam, and then dropped her pack and their weapons on a chair as he followed behind her. He turned to lock the door behind them. Sam looked up in surprise at the sound.  
  
"Not taking any chances," Jack said. He dragged a privacy screen over to the door. "It should block most of the light from the flashlight, just in case." He turned to see Sam struggling to sit on an exam bed. It was just like her to want to do it herself.  
  
"Need some help?"  
  
"No," she said.  
  
"Carter," he said, using his authoritative voice. She looked up at him helplessly, unshed tears welling in her eyes from the pain.  
  
"Yes . . . h-hurts—I can't . . ." her voice faded. God, she hated having to ask for help.  
  
Jack gave in to his knee and limped across the room to her, resting his hands around her narrow hips. "Ready?" She nodded, bracing her hands against his chest. Jack lifted her to the bed, careful not to injure her further. He began talking to her as if she were a child, trying to distract her from her discomfort. "You may have bruised or busted your ribs. Been there. Pretty painful." He kept up the patter while he limped across the room. "Let me get some better light and I'll take a look." Opening a cabinet, he took out several spare flashlights that Janet kept.  
  
"How did you . . .?" Sam asked.  
  
"You have to ask? With Daniel around?" he teased.  
  
"Oh, yeah. You two spend so much time here. I guess you would start to know where everything is," she said.  
  
"Hey, you've been in here a lot, too."  
  
"Yeah, don't remind me." She winced when she thought about the last time she was here. Passing out on an alien world. And they all thought she was just overtired. She had a difficult time understanding how her teammates could so casually dismiss her alien-sighting claims when Orlin followed her home. Well, at least the colonel had supported her when Colonel Simmons came in for the kill. She hadn't expected Jack to turn her hypothetical scenario into a direct order when Simmons challenged him. But, she was glad he did. She wasn't so sure Hammond had been as understanding with her CO after she'd followed Orlin back to Velona. The colonel never said anything, but Sam felt certain that he'd received the brunt of the fallout from her actions.  
  
Jack clicked on several of the lantern-styled flashlights, standing them on end so their beams would reflect off the ceiling. The dim light helped alleviate some of the eeriness of room. He gathered additional supplies and dumped them next to her on the bed. He could tell by the way she clenched her teeth she was hurting. Balancing his weight on his good leg, Jack seemed to list to the left as he stood in front of her.  
  
"Okay, Carter, lemme see."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Your ribs. Raise your shirt." Jack watched as she unbuttoned the green fatigue shirt she wore over her black t-shirt and tried to shrug it off her shoulders. Sam cried out at the pain that shot through her from the movement.  
  
"Here, let me." Jack helped her take off her blouse and then tugged the hem of her T from her waistband. He scrunched it up, holding it out of the way with one hand while shining a light on her midriff with the other. He clenched his teeth in sympathy at what he saw. Dark black and purple bruising mottled a large area of her left side and back, fainter bands of discoloration streaked up to her shoulders.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"You're definitely bruised," he admitted, not wanting to worry her with the extent of the damage. "I need to see if anything feels broken, he said before sliding his hands under her T-shirt. She bristled when he began to gently run his fingers over her ribcage.  
  
"God, sir. Your fingers are like ice!"  
  
"Sorry." Jack rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers, trying to warm them up. He touched her again. "Better?"  
  
"A little."  
  
He started his search of her midriff again, concentrating on the feel of her bones, mentally counting them from bottom to top. "I don't think any are broken. You just took one heck of a hit."  
  
"Yeah," she said. "And thanks," Sam added sarcastically.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"No you're not. This is payback for Antarctica and my setting your leg—admit it, sir."  
  
He grinned sheepishly at her. "You know what they say about paybacks, don't you, Carter?" She shot him a dirty look and realized by the gleam in his eyes that he was teasing her. "Those need to be wrapped, just in case. It'll be easier to do without the shirt."  
  
He tried not to notice the pink staining her cheeks at his suggestion and he kept up a steady stream of conversation as he began to remove her shirt. "You know, I didn't see a choice in getting us through the gate. Did you see that mother of . . . of a whatever the hell it was coming at us?"  
  
"The blast wave must have been huge," she said. Sam continued to babble about what kind of weapon could have generated that kind of wave and power source possibilities while Jack tenderly eased her out of her T-shirt: first her left arm, and then over her head to slide down her right arm. Sam wound up her nervous talk with, "I never imagined you undressing me like this."  
  
"You've imagined me undressing you, major?" Jack asked. He didn't miss a beat.  
  
Sam blushed again, all over. Goose bumps covered her skin from the temperature change. "That is so not what I meant."  
  
"Relax, Carter," he said. "I never imagined playing doctor with you either. A lot of other things, maybe. But doctor wasn't one of them."  
  
"Colonel!" Sam began to giggle and then caught herself. "Oh, God. It hurts."  
  
"Sorry," Jack said, grinning again as he opened a tube of analgesic cream. His manner switched from gentle teasing to professional, "This should help ease the swelling and some of the pain." He squirted some into his palm, rubbed his hands together to warm up the cream, and then gently applied it to the bruised area. "Okay so far?" he asked, hearing a groan escape her.  
  
"Y-yeah."  
  
Wiping his hands on his pants, Jack picked up an elastic bandage and unfurled an end. "Here, hold this still." He took her icy fingers and placed them and the bandage over the lower portion of her bra on her left side, unrolling the bandage as he wrapped it about her with the first pass covering a good third of her brassiere. He leaned in closer to Sam to more easily reach around her, and she rested the top of her head against his shoulder. Suddenly shocked by her nearness, Jack breathed in deeply and forced himself to concentrate on his task rather than her. He continued to snugly wrap the bandage around her. When he reached the end of the first one, he secured it, and then picked up a second one to finish the job. "That's not too tight, is it?" he asked.  
  
"No, I don't think so." Sam relaxed into him, forgetting everything but the warmth of him, her hands on his chest, the scent of him filling her. What was the matter with you, Carter? She chastised herself at the comfort she was feeling from being so near him.  
  
Jack pinned the end of the second bandage. His wrap job wasn't Frasier- perfect, but it would do. Finished, but not ready to pull away, Jack rested his arms over her shoulders and gathered her into a loose embrace; her head still resting on his chest, her hands resting at his waist, his cheek against the top of her head. He'd tried to downplay her injuries, but she needed to be x-rayed. That was the only way to know for certain if she'd cracked something. Hell, if he'd cracked something. He knew it wasn't his fault, landing on her the way he did. The last thing he remembered was a sense of panic as he saw that enormous blast wave heading toward them. Instinctively, he reacted. His only thought had been of getting her out of there alive. Her.  
  
God, it felt good holding her, even briefly. Jack knew he shouldn't. He knew he should just stow his . . . concern for her and get back to business. But she was hurting. And so was he. He'd missed her, missed how easy it was to be with her before that whole Za'tarc thing. Since then . . . well, there had been a distance between them.  
  
Hugging her, Jack felt her shoulders rise and fall with each breath, the silkiness of her skin beneath his hands. That she let him hold her surprised him. Usually, it was he who slipped up and allowed his feelings for Sam to show. And she would instantly remind him of their positions with that single damned word. Sir. Taking brief comfort in the stolen moment, he knew he had to pull back. They had to figure out what the hell was going on. And the only way to do that was to stay in their military roles, even if they were all who appeared to be left of the SGC. Rubbing his hands over her bare shoulders with a sense of finality, he cleared his throat. The unexpected noise reverberated in the room.  
  
"Okay," Jack said, pulling away from her, a sudden sense of loss washing over him. "Let's get you dressed before you get chilled." Too late for that, he added to himself, seeing gooseflesh spring up again on her arms and chest from the sudden loss of his body heat. Leaving off her t- shirt—too difficult to attempt putting back on with her ribs wrapped—he eased the green outer shirt over her shoulders and left her to rebutton it. He picked up a couple more elastic bandages and the ointment and moved them to the opposite exam bed. "So, Carter, any ideas as to what's going on here?"  
  
"Not a clue, sir. I think I'll go to my lab and see . . . what I can see." She looked up to see Jack begin to unbuckle his belt. "Are you going to need help wrapping your knee?"  
  
"Nah, I could do this with my eyes closed." Jack dropped his trousers past his knees and hopped up on the bed. "Why don't you see if they left behind the key to the drug locker? We both need some anti-inflammatory and you might need to check for a mild pain killer."  
  
"I'll go for the Tylenol, colonel, but I don't want to get fuzzy. Pain killers tend to do that to me." She started to push off of the exam bed, and then thought better when her movements caused another spasm of pain through her chest and across her back. "On second thought, I might just rest here for a minute until you're done. I think you're going to have to help me down." She slowly slunk sideways across the bed and closed her eyes.  
  
Jack watched her rest while he wrapped his knee. When he finished, he stood up and tested his leg. Much better. He didn't think that anything had been torn; it was just a mild strain. He pulled up his britches and had refastened them when he noticed Sam's breathing had evened out. She had dozed off. He wasn't surprised since they were both coming down from an adrenaline rush. He knew that it'd hit him before long, the incredible exhaustion that hit after an adrenaline charge. Jack let her rest while he found the meds.  
  
Jack checked the drug cabinet for acetaminophen. The drug locker was divided into two sections: secured for controlled medications and non- secured for medications normally available over-the-counter. He opened the OTC side and scanned the impeccably aligned bottles and boxes for the anti- inflammatory. Sure enough, several bottles were still in stock. He grabbed one and broke its safety seal. Odd, he thought. He tilted the plastic container to its side. It expired this month. Jack checked several of the other OTCs; they were either due to or had recently expired. Very odd. Things usually didn't last long enough around the SGC to expire. Those little hairs were beginning to tingle again. Jack popped a couple of pills into his mouth and washed them down with a swig from his water bottle. Turning to take the meds to Carter, he saw the phone and picked up the receiver. No dial tone. Jack punched several of the lines—dead. The more time passed, the more concerned Jack was becoming. Something around here was significantly wrong.  
  
"Carter," he whispered, gently nudging her thigh as he circled the exam bed. "Rise and shine, major." She awoke with a start and blinked rapidly to try to clear her head. "You all right?" he asked again, genuinely concerned by her behavior.  
  
Sam shook her head to clear the fuzzies that seemed to be taking over. "Sorry about that, sir."  
  
"S'alright. You may be getting shocky. It's to be expected," he said. "Here, these will help." Jack helped her sit up, gave her two pills and handed her his water bottle. He found a blanket and wrapped it snuggly around her shoulders. "I'll pack up what I can here then we'll need to move. I want to get you someplace safe so I can look around—see if there's anyone else here . . . somewhere."  
  
"What do you think happened?"  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine, Carter."  
  
"But Daniel, Teal'c. They couldn't just disappear."  
  
"I know," Jack said. "But maybe we did?"  
  
"Help me to my lab. Maybe I can find out what's going on from my laptop. I left it charging and, hopefully, I can access any other computers running on back up power. It's worth a shot."  
  
Jack looked at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "Sounds like a plan. Let's go, major."  
  
*********  
  
Jack left Carter alone in her lab only after they'd changed the team's radio frequency to lesser-used channel. They would also maintain radio silence unless there was an emergency. Jack would search through the facility while she searched her lab. He set a time when he would check in and ordered Sam to lock her office after he left.  
  
"Be careful," Sam said.  
  
"I will," he promised.  
  
Sam watched him disappear into the dark facility and waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before shutting the door and flipping the lock, the thunk of it echoing in the silent room. Exhausted, Sam rested her head against the door's cool surface and closed her eyes. This was all so strange and unsettling—the SGC's utter emptiness, the absence of . . . everyone. God, where were they? Jittery, she searched her desk for dark paper and tape, and used them to cover the window. She felt marginally safer knowing that no one could see in, if in fact there had been some sort of alien penetration within the mountain.  
  
They'd been back for a couple of hours and there had been no sign of any life, human or otherwise. What could've driven the personnel to abandon the facility without following up with the self-destruct protocol? There were no SOPs in place that would end up with this kind of a result. And what had happened to Daniel and Teal'c? They couldn't just disappear. This just didn't make sense. Sam rubbed her temples. Her head was beginning to throb. Hopefully, the acetaminophen would kick in soon.  
  
She used her flashlight to scan the darkened room. It looked the same, but . . . it didn't feel right. She crossed the room to a cabinet to take out a set of scented candles. 'Beach in a Bottle,' care of Cassie, coconut- scented candles in Mason jars to remind Sam to take a vacation. Cassie gave them to her as a birthday present a couple of years ago. She placed the candles about the room, searched for her matches, and then lit the candles. Their friendly glow and evocative aroma helped dispel some of her uneasiness. Shaking her head in an effort to dislodge what was bugging her, she sat down at her desk and looked for her laptop.  
  
It was gone.  
  
In its place was the clunky older PC she had been issued when she was assigned to the SGC. Stunned, she stared at the familiar device. A queasy sensation flooded her.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Carter asked to no one. "Okay, my old computer is here. But, I don't have that any longer. What else is here that I don't have?" She picked up a legal pad and pen and methodically went through her office, logging the inconsistencies she found. There weren't many, but what she found was supporting a theory she began to entertain. Finally, she found a small journal at the bottom of a drawer that she kept before getting a laptop. Both curious and afraid of what she might find, Sam leaned back in her chair and began to read.  
  
*****  
  
Carter closed the journal and held it to her chest as she stared into the flickering candlelight, her mouth clinched in a thoughtful frown. So much had been the same between this reality and home. People, events, histories. But the differences that did exist were huge. What had happened to her? The Samantha Carter who belonged to this reality? The journal just ended. One day she was writing in it and the next day never happened. Sam hadn't learned anything about what could have happened here from the journal, but at least she knew where they were. Or, rather, where they weren't. She watched the flame begin to sputter and die, its eerie contortions cast wavering shadows across the room.  
  
What time is it?  
  
Holy Hannah, she'd been reading for hours. The colonel never checked in. That's not like him. She hoped nothing had happened. He'd ordered her to stay put, maintain radio silence. But if he'd been hurt . . .  
  
"Well, I need to get some more candles anyway," she said, reasoning for an excuse to leave her lab and check on the colonel. Teal'c had an ample supply in his quarters—he'd actually turned into a candle connoisseur, preferring natural beeswax candles and the faint honey scent they emitted.  
  
Gritting her teeth against the fiery spasms streaking across her back and side, Sam eased out of her chair. Definitely easier getting in the darn thing than getting out of it. Dropping the journal on her desk, a snapshot fluttered out landing face down. "Hello? How did I miss you?" she said, picking it up to look at it. Just a picture of her and the Colonel. They were in full dress, smiling at the camera. Checking the handwriting on the back, she found the photo had been taken the day she'd been promoted. After she'd been promoted, she thought, noticing the insignia on her epaulets. Another difference, since the colonel hadn't been able to hang around after the ceremony in their reality.  
  
Puzzled as to why the photo was hidden, Sam's curiosity got the best of her. She picked up the journal and opened it, flipping through the empty pages at the back. Nothing. She then eased off its protective cover and found two additional photos tucked within the fold. "Oh, God," she breathed, her heart pounding within her chest. She quickly turned one over and scanned for notations. Reading the familiar script on the back of the second photo, tears again stung her eyes. Familiar faces in unfamiliar places. Wasn't that in a song or something? It fit. These belonged where their owner had stashed them. She returned the pictures to their hiding spot and lovingly set the journal back on the desk.  
  
Carter flipped on her flashlight and checked her sidearm before blowing out the lone candle on her desk, darkness enveloping her in the process. The others in the room had burned out long ago. She silently crossed the room to the door, unlocked it, and winced at the echoing sound of the tumbler clicking open. She closed her eyes for a long moment, allowing them to adjust quickly to the blackness. Slowly easing the door open, Sam checked the empty corridor before stepping through and closing the door noiselessly behind her. Hearing nothing but her heart beating, Sam chided herself for her skittishness then headed toward Teal'c's room. She hoped she'd find the colonel along the way.  
  
*****  
  
Jack paused before he pulled open the stairwell door and entered the empty corridor leading to Carter's lab. He'd searched the levels of the Cheyenne Mountain facility occupied by the SGC and found nothing. No bodies, no evidence of a battle, nothing. The SGC's power supply and emergency cut- offs were separate from the rest of the facility's. Emergency disconnects were located in the gate room and in the SGC's mechanical room. Both switches were operational and in the "on" position. Power had not been disrupted from within the SGC.  
  
That left Jack to reason that the power supply to the base had been interrupted. The mountain was designed to be self-contained in the event of a nuclear attack, but to 1960's standards. And that added up to about three months' worth of reserve power. It would appear, then, that whatever had happened caused both supply to the base to be cut off and the emergency power reserves to be emptied. Which was impossible, as far as he could figure.  
  
He'd managed to give the other levels a cursory once over as he slowly climbed the emergency stairs to the surface. He'd considered climbing the ladders in the evacuation shafts, but since he hadn't any indication so far of an alien presence—hell, of the presence of anything living, for that matter—he felt reasonably secure using the stairwell.  
  
Jack eased the door shut behind him. In the deafening silence of the facility, every noise seemed magnified tenfold. As he began walking toward Carter's lab, he heard the empty echo of footsteps. Cutting off the flashlight's beam and slipping it into his waistband, Jack stepped back into the door's recess and waited.  
  
*****  
  
Whoompf. Carter stopped in her tracks when heard the distant sound of a door shutting. The way the noises bounced and echoed through the hallways, she couldn't tell from which direction the sound originated. She closed her eyes and clicked off her flashlight. When she opened her eyes, the inky blackness was impenetrable, but at least she was on equal ground with whomever or whatever was ahead. Holding her flashlight like a weapon in one hand, she touched the wall with the other and cautiously continued forward. She hoped it was the colonel, but she wasn't taking any chances.  
  
Carter mentally traced her path to Teal'c's room while feeling her way along the corridor. She felt the sharp edge of a corner and searched for its opposing mate. Her ears strained to hear anything that would alert her to the presence of another, but she could only hear the thudding of her heart.  
  
*****  
  
Jack listened intently to the building echo of footfalls in the corridor. Whoever was there was right in front of him. He waited patiently until the steps echoed past his position and then did a mental three count before springing into action. He grabbed the intruder from behind; one arm wrapped around its upper torso and the other clamping over where Jack assumed a mouth would be. Immediately, something hard and metallic connected painfully with his knee before clattering away onto the concrete floor as his captive fought him. As they struggled, Jack realized the slender form he held felt very familiar. Oh, crap! Regret washed over him when he heard her cry out in pain against his hand.  
  
"Carter?!" Jack felt her nod against his palm and immediately loosened his hold. "What the Hell are you doing here? I ordered you to stay put!"  
  
"Dammit, sir, where the Hell have you been? You were supposed to check in hours ago!"  
  
Jack flicked on his flashlight in time to see Carter gripping her ribs; pain etched into her features as she shut her eyes against the bright beam. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt . . ."  
  
"Well, you didn't help," she snapped. Realizing how she sounded, Sam followed up with an apology, "Sorry about your knee."  
  
"It's all right, Carter."  
  
"Colonel, you were supposed to--"  
  
"Check in," Jack finished, "I know, I tried. I was nearly up to the surface when I tried you and you never responded. I figured the shielding of the mountain might have been blocking the transmission. I kept trying in intervals, but never got you."  
  
Sam checked her radio. Dead. "It was working when you left." She continued to fiddle with her unit and began to check its battery pack. Pieces of it shook out into her hand upon removing its backing.  
  
"Must have been damaged when I landed on you in the gateroom," Jack said.  
  
"Ya think?" Carter said, parroting one of his favorite expressions.  
  
"You still haven't explained why you're . . . here," he said.  
  
Looking for you, she thought, but answered, "Candles. The couple I keep in my lab burned out and I needed more. I was going to Teal'c's to borrow some of his. I had some glow sticks, but they're difficult to read by," she added sarcastically.  
  
"Come on." Jack opened the door to the stairwell. Great. More stairs. His throbbing knee was beginning to grind from all of the climbing. At least he was going down instead of up. Carter, obviously tense and pissed, silently followed him to Teal'c's quarters.  
  
Jack cautiously opened the door and searched the room with his flashlight. "No monsters," he declared while he held the door open for Carter.  
  
"Very funny, sir."  
  
"I thought so." Jack watched as Sam found Teal'c's matches and lit a few of the numerous candles he kept to help him achieve kel nor reem. Everything was as it should be; simple furnishings, cream-colored candles and bedding. Jack turned off his flashlight and looked at his watch. It was late.  
  
"Did you find anyone else?" Carter asked.  
  
"No. Not a soul. Just you and me," he said. "The entire base is without power and phones."  
  
"That can't be, Colonel." Sam said, her brow furrowed in thought. "There's the emergency lighting, back-up generators . . ."  
  
"I know, Carter. Whatever happened obviously screwed all of that." He sat his P-90 in a chair beside Teal'c's armoire. "Tomorrow, I'll go off base to see . . ."  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
"It's late, Carter. We've had a hell of a day. We might as well call it a night," he said. Like ripping off a Band-aid, Jack thought, it's better when done fast.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
The look of surprise on her face was priceless, he thought. "We're both wiped out, the base is deserted, and it's . . . tomorrow already," Jack said as he checked his watch. He sat on Teal'c's large bed, bouncing on it slightly before flopping backwards on it. "I don't know about you, but Teal'c's bed looks like heaven."  
  
Sam smiled weakly at her CO despite herself. If her head hadn't been pounding like it was, she'd argue with him about something just because. But she hurt too much to put up a fight. "Why not camp out in the VIP rooms?"  
  
"I don't know. Call it a feeling," Jack rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "I didn't like losing radio contact with you, Carter. This way, we'll be looking out for each other's six. Besides, I'm too pooped to prowl, too tired to, aw, whatever. No more stairs, please."  
  
"Okay, okay." She walked into the private bathroom that had been installed for Teal'c as a permanent resident of the SGC and absently flicked on the light switch out of habit. Of course, nothing happened.  
  
"You need a candle, Major," Jack called.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she said when she came back into the room for one. She shielded it with her hand so the flame wouldn't go out as she reentered the bathroom and the closed the door behind her.  
  
Teal'c's door had a window, but he kept it covered for privacy. That was another reason Jack wanted to stay stationed there, at least for the night. Jack got up to lock the door. He didn't like the feel of what was going on, or rather, what wasn't going on within the facility. And, until they figured out what the hell had happened here, he didn't want to take any chances. He used a candle to light a few more pillars before turning down the comforter. He listened to the trickle of running water coming from the sink in the bathroom—well, at least they still had access to water. That was something.  
  
Jack sat back on the bed and removed his boots, letting them thump unceremoniously on the floor. He shrugged off his outer shirt and took off his utility belt, dropping both on top of his boots before stretching out on the right side of the queen-sized bed. A groan of relief escaped as his body melted into the cotton comforter. Much better than that damn bunk with the lumpy mattress he usually used when confined to base. He needed to hit up Hammond for one of these. Jack crossed an arm over his eyes to block out the flickering candlelight and began to relax, just slightly. When Carter came back, he'd ask her what she found. She'd been unusually quiet. Not good. Those two words could sum up a heck of lot of today, that's for sure.  
  
*******  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"What? I'm awake. What?" Jack sat up at the light touch on his arm, immediately alert. Shit, he must have fallen asleep.  
  
"Time for more acetaminophen," Sam dropped two white caplets in his hand and handed him a glass of water.  
  
"Oh, thanks."  
  
Jack watched her open and close drawers until she found Teal'c's stash of T- shirts and pulled one out. She then blew out the candles one by one, leaving one lit on top of the dresser. Keeping her back to him, Sam unbuttoned the green BDU shirt and let it slip from her shoulders and drop to the floor. She shook out the oversized t-shirt and winced as she tried to pull it on.  
  
"Come here, I'll help. After all I'm who did that to you in the first place." Jack said. Sam held the T-shirt close to her chest and sat down beside him on the bed. "How do the ribs feel? Wrapped too tight? I can loosen it a bit, it you want."  
  
"It's fine, sir." She turned her back to him as she handed him the shirt, still feeling shy. This was ridiculous, she thought. After all, she was wearing her bra and all those bandages. He'd seen her in much less on Hathor's planet when she was lying on the stasis table. He knocked out a technician for clothing for her. Of course, they were trying to blend in to enable their escape. And things were different between them back then.  
  
Jack eased the shirt over her head. "Um, so Carter, what do you think is going on?"  
  
Sam tugged the shirt down and turned to look him straight on. "I'm not sure."  
  
"Is that a first?" he asked. "You're not being sure about something?"  
  
"I'm serious, sir. I really don't know enough yet to say. I need to think this through when I can think more clearly. I'm sorry." She struggled to reach her bootlaces only to be brushed aside by Jack. "Colonel?"  
  
"Hey, I'm closer." And, actually he was. She was sitting with her legs pulled up to her on the bed with her feet right in front of Jack. She couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He untied her boots and yanked the tongues loose so that she could kick the boots off on her side of the bed. "There ya go."  
  
"Thanks. Well, good night, sir," she said nervously. Sam blew out the remaining candle, immersing the room in instant darkness, and lay back on the bed, stifling a groan as she tucked her feet under the covers, and then stared into the black.  
  
Beside her, she could hear him breathing. In. Out. In. Out. She'd listened to him before when they'd been off world. But, it was seldom just the two of them. Alone. And, never sharing a bed. Well, they'd slept together in Antarctica, but that was to conserve body heat. They were in a life or death situation then. They could be now, she argued with herself, and just not know it.  
  
The room seemed to echo from the stillness. And his breathing.  
  
"Are you sure you can't . . ." he asked quietly.  
  
Carter exhaled slowly. "Okay," she said, wondering how to put her suspicions. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." She waited for the barrage of questions, but was greeted with silence. "Sir?"  
  
"I'm thinking."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Why?" he asked softly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why do you think that?"  
  
"Well, you suggested it, sir. I mean, no one's here, for one. Not even Teal'c and Daniel. And it doesn't appear that they, or anyone else for that matter, have been here for a while."  
  
"Okay, that's one. What's two?" Jack felt the bed move as she shifted again and heard a quiet gasp of pain escape her. A pang of guilt knotted up in his gut for having hurt her.  
  
After she'd settled, she answered. "My laptop's gone."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"My laptop computer," she repeated. "It's gone. Vanished. Non-existent."  
  
"I know what it means, Carter. How does that figure in?"  
  
"Not only is it gone, but the old PC I had before it is back."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And, I don't have that unit anymore. There's no way I could do the work necessary now on that old thing."  
  
"Okay, that's two. What else, Carter? There has to be more than that—you always have a three."  
  
"And, three, I found her journal."  
  
"Whose?"  
  
"Mine."  
  
"Oh? Oh," he said, slowly understanding who Carter meant. "And?"  
  
"And, there are other differences. In her journal."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"My dad's dead. Died of cancer. There's no mention of the Tok'ra alliance."  
  
"But what about . . ."  
  
"Jolinar?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That still happened and she died saving me in this reality."  
  
"So, what happened with the alliance?"  
  
"I don't know. The journal didn't say."  
  
"What else?"  
  
"That's . . . basically it," she answered hesitantly.  
  
"That's it?" Something was up, he thought. "You haven't found any other differences?"  
  
Sam moved again, buying time as she considered telling him.  
  
"Carter? What are you holding out?"  
  
Sam paused before answering, "You."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah. You're dead, Colonel. You died on Edora in the meteor storm."  
  
"How?" He needed to know, though he suspected. Anything could have happened in that storm.  
  
"When Teal'c dug through to the surface, the planet had been decimated. There were no survivors other than those we'd been able to get through the gate before."  
  
He was silent for a moment. "And no mention of what could have happened here?"  
  
Sam thought it through before answering, "No. Not that I could see. The journal ends not too long after your death."  
  
Both were quiet. Again, the only sound was breathing.  
  
Jack cleared his throat before speaking, "There's a four."  
  
"What, sir?"  
  
"The drug cabinet in the infirmary. Most of the drugs are either expired or about to be."  
  
"Really?" Wow, she thought.  
  
"Really."  
  
"Well, that wouldn't happen in our infirmary," Sam said.  
  
"So . . . It looks like we're in an alternate reality?"  
  
"Universe," she corrected. "But, yeah, that's what it looks like."  
  
Jack paused for a long moment before asking, "What about you? The you in this reality?"  
  
"I don't know. We'll have to wait and see. If she's alive, we'll know soon enough."  
  
"You mean the entrophy dishwasher detergent . . ."  
  
"Entropic cascade failure. Yes, sir. I should experience a cascade tremor probably sometime tomorrow if she isn't . . ."  
  
"Dead?"  
  
"Yeah." Sam yawned.  
  
The room fell silent again while Jack thought over everything she'd said. "An alternate reality would explain the emergency power disruption, too."  
  
"Yeah?" she encouraged him to finish his line of thought even though she knew where he was heading.  
  
"Whatever happened that caused everything to vanish—the mechanicals might have kept running until the power source was gone."  
  
"Unless they were affected by whatever occurred. So, as best either of us can figure, whatever happened didn't happen today."  
  
They lay there quietly again, both drained to the point of exhaustion. Sam waited for Jack to speak again. When he didn't, she wiggled, hunting for a nonexistent comfortable position. She fought the urge to groan as she shifted again. She felt the bed move and lighten and heard Jack move through the room. "Colonel?" She heard him open and close a door and felt the bed sink again under his weight when he returned.  
  
"Here," he sat what felt to be an extra pillow beside her. "I should have thought of this. You'll sleep easier on an incline," he said. She grasped his shoulders as he helped her into a sitting position.  
  
He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Close enough to kiss, she thought. Wow, where did that thought come from? She dropped her hand from his shoulder to rest on his chest. She knew he had to be able to hear her heart pounding; she could certainly feel his under her fingertips.  
  
"Thanks," she whispered, nervously wetting her lips with her tongue.  
  
He froze under her touch, her hand burning through his t-shirt. He could sense her desire, and he felt the same. He leaned in closer to her as he reached around her to position the pillow. God, he needed to put some space between them or . . . Jack cleared his throat and covered her hand with his own for a moment, squeezing it briefly, before moving away to settle back on his side of the bed.  
  
"Night, Carter."  
  
*******  
  
"Carter! Where are you?"  
  
Sam jumped, dropping her pliers, when she heard the new radio crackle to life. The colonel had located a replacement for her before leaving the base.  
  
Where do you think I am? She was where she'd been all day, on her hands and knees hardwiring a naquadah generator into the SGC's main cut-off switch. "I'm in the gateroom, sir."  
  
"Be there in five. Out."  
  
She sat back on her knees and rubbed her aching ribs. The colonel would have to rewrap them later. The elastic bandages had loosened over the day's exertion, and she was really beginning to hurt. She'd completed building the other Sam's prototype and slowly maneuvered it from her lab to the gate room one step at a time. Thank God, it was smaller than the first one she'd ever built. Sam looked over the wiring, running through the connections through her mind. If she'd done everything right . . . The beam of Jack's flashlight caught her dead-on as he casually bounded, well limped, through the door.  
  
"Hey, Carter. How's it going?"  
  
"Colonel! Do you mind?" she said, shielding her eyes from the bright light.  
  
"Oh, sorry." He smiled and sat the flashlight bottom down, adding its illumination to that of the other small portable lanterns scattered around her.  
  
"I think I've got it. When I say go, flip the switch," she instructed. Sam tinkered with the reactor for another minute. "Okay, now."  
  
Jack raised several levers and they were rewarded by the lights flickering to life in the gate room, control room and hallway. "Sweet!"  
  
"You can say that." Sam laughed. The place was beginning to look less eerie.  
  
"How long will this last?" he asked, indicating the reactor.  
  
"Months."  
  
"Let's hope we won't need it that long."  
  
Carter collected her tools and struggled to get up. Jack took her arm and helped her stand, balancing her with a hand on the small of her back. "We won't, sir."  
  
"So, you've thought up a way home?"  
  
"Getting there," she answered, leading the way out of the gate room and up the stairs to the control room. "What did you find in town?"  
  
"A big, fat nothing."  
  
"Nothing normal?" she asked, "Or nothing nothing?"  
  
"Nothing nothing. No sign of any, I mean any, kind of life."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I even checked the phones—nothing. Either this entire region has been evac'd and placed off-limits or . . ."  
  
"Or we're it," Carter finished.  
  
"Or we're it," Jack repeated, finality ringing in his voice. "If something biological happened above ground, this place would have been locked down. There's enough air, water, and supplies here for over 300 personnel to live for months. It would have never been abandoned. Not like this."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And there's no signs of a goauld attack, either."  
  
"I know, sir."  
  
Carter booted up the computer system within the control room and sat down at a keyboard. She entered her password/login and began checking the system. After a few minutes, she finally entered the command to close the iris. They watched the shield close, securing the gate against unknown access. Sam breathed a sigh of relief since at least some of measure of security was back in place. Getting the gate closed had been her number one priority. Now, she had one less thing to worry about.  
  
Sam spun her chair around to look up at Jack, who was standing directly behind her. "I think I know how we got here."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"I'll run some scenarios in a bit—couldn't do that until I had these, but, yeah, I think."  
  
Jack sat down in the chair next to her. "How?"  
  
"Well, here goes. Have you ever skipped stones?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Skipped stones. Across a lake?"  
  
"Yeah. I know how to skip stones. What does that have to do with us?"  
  
"Well, if you just toss a stone, it'll follow a simple arc directly into the water."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"But if you throw it at a different angle, with more velocity, it'll bounce repeatedly before sinking into the water," Sam continued.  
  
"Yeah, and the number of skips depends on the amount of force used to throw the stone."  
  
"Right. Well, I think that's what happened to us." She saw Jack's brow furrow. She'd lost him. "I think that the energy burst that hit the gate after we went through caused the wormhole to skip 'realities,' like a stone skipping over water."  
  
Jack absorbed her explanation and mulled it over. "Didn't you say in your report about Edora that you and Teal'c were within the wormhole when it was hit by the meteor? It had a lot of energy behind it—why didn't this happen then?"  
  
"My guess is what hit you and me was pure energy that the gate absorbed and used, which caused the jump. Whereas, when the meteor hit the one on Edora, it was mass plus energy which caused the gate to disconnect."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Let me run some simulations and see what we get. If I can pinpoint how we got here, maybe I can figure out a way to get us back."  
  
"Okay. What can I do?"  
  
Sam smiled suspiciously, feeling her stomach rumble for the umpteenth time. "Find something for dinner?"  
  
"I can do that.' Jack got up and limped across the room. "Keep your radio on, just in case," he reminded.  
  
*****  
  
"Soup's on," Jack announced as he reentered the control room carrying a tray.  
  
"Hot soup? Really?" Sam answered, still staring at the computer screen.  
  
"Yeah, nothing special—canned. Just heat and eat. You want tomato basil or chicken noodle?"  
  
"Tomato sounds good." Sam looked up long enough to see him place the tray on an empty chair away from the electronics.  
  
"Good, 'cause I wanted the chicken noodle." Jack grinned and handed her a mug before sitting in the chair next to her. "Found some crackers, too. Canned fruit for desert."  
  
"I'll take you up on the crackers."  
  
"Update me, Carter."  
  
"Well, although we've never seen the gate do this—theoretically, my idea works."  
  
"About skipping stones."  
  
"Yeah." Sam answered absently as she quickly switched thoughts, "You know, if Hammond hadn't destroyed our Quantum Mirror after Samantha . . ."  
  
"Uhm." Jack hedged.  
  
"Hammond did destroy it after she left?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"Wow!" she exclaimed, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "It could still work. But, then again, we don't even know if the mirror exists here. And if it does exist here, the only way to find home would be with the controller like the one Samantha had. And, we'd need to know where the mirror's located back home so we'd know if we'd found it."  
  
"The last one I know. But, I didn't see a mirror here when I was searching the base yesterday."  
  
"Yeah, but you weren't looking for it yesterday either."  
  
"True." Jack played with the noodles in his soup. "Any other ideas, major? Always like a backup plan."  
  
"Actually, yeah. One. Not sure about it yet though."  
  
"Prattle on, major," he gestured with his spoon, "I'll interrupt if I get lost."  
  
"Oh. . . Okay, sir." Sam settled back in her chair and swiveled to face him, their knees brushing. "Plan B. I think we got here because of that intense energy blast. The only way I can think of to get us back is to recreate a blast wave equal to that energy level," she waited for his reaction. Instead of surprised, he actually seemed . . . intent.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Well, we've got the naquadah generator and enough materials for me to build a second."  
  
"And that will do it?"  
  
"No. We'll also use the mountain's fail safe."  
  
"The self-destruct?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I figure we use the one to power the gate and initiate the self- destruct. The other I rig to cause a feedback loop that'll blow it."  
  
"Like I ordered you to do to the Gadmeer ship that was terraforming P5- whatever—where we relocated the Enkarans."  
  
"Exactly. Now, the timing is everything. I set the reactor's feedback to blow when the self-destruct goes. We'll have dialed up PL3-93X and when the countdown hits 4, we step through the event horizon. It'll be 3 when we enter and we should be in about the same location within the wormhole that we were when the original anomaly occurred."  
  
"And with luck, you think we'll get bounced back?"  
  
"Or end up in some other alternative reality. Or get blown to smithereens if I've miscalculated the timing. We could even end up back at PL3-93X but still be in this variant multiverse."  
  
"But, since our other selves are . . . gone, we shouldn't suffer any ill effects, should we?"  
  
"None that I'm aware of, sir," Sam looked grim. "But, if we are stranded here, who knows who our allies are. Or our enemies, for that matter—everything could be different."  
  
"We'll deal with whatever's thrown at us, Major."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"What kind of time frame are you looking at, Carter?"  
  
"It'll take me a day or two to get the second reactor up, if the Quantum Mirror isn't an option."  
  
"Okay, I'll check on the mirror. If it's not here, we'll go with your plan."  
  
"Yes, sir," she said. She seemed preoccupied.  
  
"If we do go with plan B, we'll need to bring whatever supplies we can carry with us, just in case,"  
  
"I know," she said. That wasn't the most comforting thought, gating through space, homeless, seeking safe haven.  
  
"Carter, you okay with this?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm just tired, I guess. Hurting again."  
  
"Well, it's getting late. We can knock off and start up again in the morning."  
  
"I want to stay and work on this a little while longer, sir."  
  
Jack stood up and began to stack their dishes back on the tray. "An hour, major. Then, you're going to let me put some more muscle cream on those ribs. Understood?"  
  
"But—"  
  
"That's an order, major," he said with a smile hinting in his eyes. "An hour. I'll gather some supplies before meeting you in Teal'c's room." He headed for the door, and then added as an afterthought, "Hey, what all's being powered by the reactor?"  
  
"Just the essentials, sir. Gateroom, control room, lights on the SGC levels . . ."  
  
"Hot water?"  
  
Sam laughed, holding her ribs against the discomfort. A long steamy soak in the locker room whirlpool sounded like heaven, but she'd settle for a hot shower. "I'll check on it, Colonel," she promised. "But, if we get hot water, I get first dibs on the locker room!"  
  
*********  
  
An hour later, Sam dragged herself to Teal'c's room and collapsed on the bed. Although she'd been able to get the power to the hot water tanks reestablished, it would be morning before they'd be able to have an adequate supply for bathing.  
  
The colonel had yet to return, so Sam took out from the armoire another oversized shirt of Teal'c's to use as a nightshirt and rummaged through a drawer hoping for a pair of pajama bottoms. She raised her eyes skyward in silent thanks when she found a pair with a drawstring waist. She took the borrowed items and a pack in which she'd put fresh underclothes, deodorant and a spare toothbrush that she kept in her lab with her into the bathroom. She hadn't yet made it to the locker room where her spare uniforms were. She'd get to them in the morning.  
  
God, she looked forward to a hot shower to ease her aching. Her entire chest felt on fire. Breathing was painful and it took all she had to lift her arms, much less do all she did with the generator today. She was thankful that she'd been able to check the power to the water heaters through the computers.  
  
Sam went into Teal'c's bathroom and flicked on the lights, mentally patting herself on the back when the lights actually came on this time. It was worth the pain she decided. Hurting but determined, she removed her boots and uniform. It was slow going, but she struggled through. She'd brought a bar of lightly fragranced glycerin soap and a washcloth and, though the water was still cold, she managed to remove the evidence of several days of being in the field. Well, she had to work around the loosened elastic bandages. When the colonel returned, she'd see if he would rewrap her ribs.  
  
That was one thing she had to give him. In Antarctica, his ribs had been broken. Hers were just bruised and, if what she was feeling was "just bruised," she never wanted to experience broken. If anything, she felt worse about having used him as a pillow in her sleep.  
  
Finished with her standing "bath," she pulled on Teal'c's t-shirt, which hit her mid-thigh, fresh underwear and a thick pair of socks. She refused to wear those BDU's one more night. They could nearly walk into the bedroom on their own, she thought. The colonel would just have to deal with it, she thought as she pulled on the blue plaid bottoms.  
  
Sam opened the bathroom door while tying the drawstring to find the man in a similar state of undress as her own. Jack had changed into a pair of military-issue, navy blue athletic shorts and was rubbing analgesic on his bruised and swollen knee. A fresh t-shirt lay on the bed beside him.  
  
"Colonel. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," she stammered, blushing and quickly averting her eyes from his bare chest as she pulled the bathroom door shut.  
  
"Carter, I was just—didn't realize you were in there either." He wiped his hands on the T-shirt he'd taken off and threw it into the corner. "Any luck with the water?"  
  
"Won't be hot enough until tomorrow at the earliest, sir," she answered. He grimaced when he heard that. She knew he needed to soak to relieve the pain as much as she did.  
  
"Teal'c's," he said, indicating the clothing.  
  
Carter nodded and then sat down beside him on the bed while he rewrapped his knee. "When you're finished, can you redo mine? I must have overdone it today." Must have was an understatement, she thought wryly, her bruised ribs throbbing in time with the headache she'd developed.  
  
"Yeah, I'm nearly done," he said. He picked up the fasteners and secured the elastic wrap in several places. "Okay, come here." He shifted his position backward on the bed, making room for her to sit in front of him, which she did.  
  
She pulled her arms through the loose shirt's armholes and tucked her head through the neck, before sweeping it off with minimal effort. She released the fasteners and the end of the bandage nearly began to uncoil itself as the tension was released. She closed her eyes, bowed down her head and clasped her hands at the back of her neck to get her arms out of Jack's way. She felt him tenderly unfurl the wrap and heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw the extent of her bruising.  
  
Exhaling, he said, "God, Sam, I'm so sorry."  
  
"That bad, huh?"  
  
"Well, really . . . not good," he admitted. Fighting the urge to cry out, Sam tensed against the flash of pain she felt when he began massaging in the analgesic at her lower back and methodically worked his way up. But, she began to relax as the pain dissipated under the warm, soothing pressure of his hands. "I'm going to undo your bra, Carter, to put this stuff higher up—the bruising's spread."  
  
Sam dropped an arm down to hold her bra in place, "Okay."  
  
"Your bra has been helping hold pressure, major. When I undo it, you may hurt a bit." He heard her stifle a small cry when he unhooked it. He clenched his jaw, tensing in sympathy with her pain, as he began to spread more of the cream onto her back. When he was done, he refastened the undergarment and heard her slowly let out the breath she'd been holding. "Okay, Carter, can you shift toward me a bit? I need to see how bad it looks from the front." She turned around to sit on her knee in front of him. She looked at him straight on, watched his expression change as he saw the extent of her bruising. She didn't need to glance down to know it was ugly. His face said it all. Again, he repeated applying analgesic cream and Sam braced herself by laying her hands on his shoulders.  
  
"Need a break before I rewrap?"  
  
She nodded in affirmation, her face pale from her battle to keep from crying out. She leaned forward, placing her forehead against his shoulder, taking slow deep breaths, "So, did you make my job tomorrow easier by finding the quantum mirror?" she asked, trying to distract herself from her pain and from wanting him.  
  
"No. They don't seem to have it."  
  
"So, plan B?"  
  
"Looks that way, Major."  
  
"It's not going to be a piece of cake," she said.  
  
"When is it ever, Carter?"  
  
She raised her head to offer a half-grin at the joke. "Okay, Colonel, wrap me back up."  
  
*****  
  
Much later, Sam lay awake in the darkness listening to him snore in his sleep, a gentle, rumbling sound. It was usually a comforting sound. Heck, when they were all off-world, she had her own personal symphony to lull her to sleep, between the colonel, Daniel and Teal'c. But now, his snoring distracted her. And even though the ache across her chest had eased up since the colonel had put on the muscle cream, her head still throbbed and she couldn't turn off her thoughts. She tried working through the calculations for what she'd attempt tomorrow, assuming she'd be able to build the second naquadah generator in a day, but even that hadn't bored her to sleep.  
  
She also thought about the colonel. She guessed it was because it was just the two of them, or maybe because she felt so crappy, but she couldn't lock away her feelings for him. Maybe it was just because they could flirt and tease out in the open, not worrying about others watching them, but she kept feeling drawn to him, more so than usual. And it was becoming harder to fight.  
  
She also thought about the other Sam—her. The one who'd poured out a lot of personal feelings in that journal. The one who'd hidden special pictures taken on two very special days. Different people, different realities. Yet, one truth held true in every version they'd experienced. She and O'Neill. And feelings.  
  
"Colonel?" she whispered, not wanting to wake him, but needing to talk. "Colonel, are you asleep?" She felt the bed move as he woke.  
  
"Not really, Carter," he mumbled.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Oh?" he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, sir, just thinking."  
  
"I'd be surprised if you weren't, major," he said, the words having long turned into a private joke between the two of them. He quietly lay next to her and waited for her to continue. After a long pause, she finally spoke. "Sir, what would you do if we--?"  
  
"If we were what, Carter?"  
  
"If this really had been our reality? If we came home to find this."  
  
"I guess do what we're doing, find out what happened and see if we can fix it."  
  
"Oh." Sam tugged at the sheet, pulling it closer to her chin.  
  
Jack would have stared at the ceiling, if he could. Too damn dark. He tapped his fingers on his chest. Dog tired, knee killing him, but too wired to go back to sleep. "Carter?"  
  
He heard her sigh softly before answering with a soft, "Huh?"  
  
"Do you ever consider packing it all in? Quitting, I mean."  
  
"I hadn't really thought about it, sir," she lied. She thought about it more than she'd ever care to admit. A lot about it, in fact. "Do you?"  
  
Jack rolled to his side and propped up on an elbow over Sam. If he could see her, he figured he'd be face-to-face with her. "Yeah, more than I used to."  
  
"Well, sir, what do you see in your future?"  
  
"Besides fishing?" he teased.  
  
"You mean not fishing, don't you? Teal'c told me about your fishing trip last year."  
  
"Teal'c just couldn't grasp the concept, the Zen of fishing."  
  
"Zen fishing?" Carter stifled a giggle. The thought of Jack and Zen together was an oxymoron if ever there was one. "Yes, sir, besides fishing."  
  
"I hope I can retire and not worry about an alien invasion."  
  
"And?" she prodded. She knew he tended toward long pauses that trucks could be driven through before finishing a thought.  
  
"And . . . and you, Carter," he said softly. Jack sensed her tense, heard her gasp in surprise. "I see you. I know we've got to make it out of the SGC alive first, but . . . whenever I let myself think about my life after . . . there's always you. I know I don't have the right—"  
  
"Shh," she cut him off before he took it all back, reaching up to place her fingers against his lips. "I know, Jack," she said. "Me, too."  
  
He was so close, his face hovering just above hers, his breath tickling her face. The air seemed electric and she slowly inhaled, waiting for his kiss. Instead, he tenderly stroked her cheek, sending tremors of pleasure down to her toes. Sam covered his hand with her own, stilling him against her face.  
  
"Carter," he said, his voice thick with emotion. God, he knew he had to stop now or there would be no going back. "Good night," he collapsed back on his side of the bed, closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep, trying to forget the desirable woman lying next to him.  
  
*****  
  
"Carter," Jack called to her from the dry side of the opaque shower curtain, tapping the curtain with his hand as he passed by.  
  
Sam nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice. She'd thought she was alone in the locker room. After letting the steaming water pelt her sore muscles for an eternity, Sam had been about to get out. "Sir?"  
  
"Need help washing your back?" he teased.  
  
"That's okay, Colonel. Nearly finished," she said, trying desperately to convey disinterest. She heard him start the water in the stall next to her.  
  
"Okay, but you don't know what you're missing, Carter."  
  
Oh, yes I do, sir. She heard him pull shut his shower curtain, and relaxed. Sam rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and shut off the taps. She toweled off quickly then secured it around her like a sarong before heading to her locker to dress. Well, dress from at least from the waist down. Fresh panties, Air Force blue BDU's, socks. The shower had eased her stiffness to the point that she was able to put on a bra by fastening the hooks at her waist then turning it frontwards before easing the straps over her shoulders. But there was no way she could she manage the analgesic and the elastic bandages on her own, so she waited for the colonel to finish his shower.  
  
She was sitting on the bench tying her boots when Jack came into the dressing area, face freshly shaven, towel low slung around his waist. Sam froze, her foot pulled up on the bench in front of her, and stared openly, her mouth slightly agape. He's doing this on purpose, she thought. Catching herself, she broke her gaze and redirected it to her boot. Probably not, she countered. He had no way of knowing she'd be waiting for him.  
  
"Carter," he said, stopping in front of his locker. He opened it to find it was empty. Of course, he was dead, he remembered. He shut the door, his hand lingering on the space in which his name had been taped.  
  
"Colonel," she replied. "How's the knee?"  
  
"Swelling's going down. Should be good as new in a few days." Jack stepped down to Daniel's locker and opened it. They were nearly the same size, so Daniel's clothing should work. Jack pulled out clothing and tossed the items on the bench; pants and belt, t-shirt, socks and boxers. Daniel could be so anal sometimes, Jack thought. The underclothes were still encased in plastic. Daniel tended toward keeping new gear in his locker at all times—said it had something to do with razzing he'd endured in school. Jack could only imagine it had something to do with Ben Gay and a jock strap, but Daniel never elaborated.  
  
Well, Daniel's idiosyncrasies were to Jack's benefit now. He took out the deodorant and popped off the cap, aware that behind him she was watching his every move. He applied the deodorant, recapped it and threw it back in to the locker. "How about you, Carter? Shower help?"  
  
She shook herself mentally, "Uh, yes, sir." Sam swallowed hard, "I need you . . . "  
  
"Do you?" he teased suggestively, cutting her off before she could finish her request. Jack expertly pulled on the boxers under his towel and then stripped off the towel to pat the moisture from his chest.  
  
"To rewrap me," she finished, his innuendo sailing right past her. Color flooded her face when she realized how intently she was watching him. Silently, she grabbed her toothbrush and paste and fled to the sink which was out of Jack's visual line. What was she doing? Hadn't they finally stowed all this away, coming to a mutual agreement about leaving the door open for the future? Shouldn't that have allowed her to compartmentalize everything and go on?  
  
Sam rinsed her toothbrush, applied the paste and began brushing her teeth. When she finished, she rinsed her mouth using her hand as a cup, and then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Towel-dried hair nearly standing on end, faint circles under eyes from the strain of the past couple of days—she was a sight. She stepped back to see her ribcage and gasped at the bruising. God, no wonder she hurt. She ran her damp hands vigorously through her short hair, giving it lift and trying to smooth it into place.  
  
"You ready?" Jack asked, entering from the dressing area. He'd dressed in blues, too, and he stood close behind her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"This?" He held up the elasticized wrap.  
  
"Oh, sure."  
  
Jack placed the brown bandages on the counter and squeezed out the dregs of the analgesic into his palms. Bracing herself against the cold metal sink with her hands, she watched him work, the tight set of his lips as he gently massaged the cream into her skin, brow furrowed while he focused on the task. He looked up to catch her eyes once, and she boldly held his gaze, challenging him. His expression relaxed and the corner of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile, but he said nothing.  
  
Jack finished quickly, hooking the bandages' fasteners in place and then he rested his hands on her waist. "All done," he said softly.  
  
Sam straightened slowly and locked her gaze with his once more. Watching their reflection within the mirror, he could see pain mixed with desire in her eyes before she closed them and stepped back to lean against his chest and soak up the warmth of his body. Her damp hair brushed against his chin and he breathed in the fresh, clean scent of her. Sam surprised him further by entwining her fingers within his and pulling his arms around her to force him to hold her. His arms rested under hers, trapping him against her.  
  
Jack burned the image he saw in the mirror into his mind; the strangely erotic sight of Sam in his arms; her plain white cotton bra, bandages and fair skin against the black expanse of his t-shirt, her pale arms contrasting with the tan of his own, shiny metal dog tags dangling between her breasts. Jack tore his eyes away from the fantasy in the glass to look down at the woman in his arms, her head turned away revealing her bare neck and shoulders. God, he thought, his body responding to the feel of her. It was all he could do to keep from kissing that tender skin. Hell, from picking her up and carrying her to the bench in the dressing area and . . . Swallowing hard, Jack pressed a kiss to her head, her hair tickling his face.  
  
"Come on, major," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. "We've got work to do."  
  
*****  
  
"So, now what?" Jack asked, surveying her lab surrounded by bits and pieces and parts of the reactor she was trying to build.  
  
"Hand me that." She gestured toward an item out of her reach, never looking up from the item she was soldering.  
  
"This?" He picked up a strangely shaped piece of metallic tubing and handed it to her.  
  
"Yeah." She took it and incorporated the part into the small, suitcase- sized generator. "Thanks."  
  
Jack leaned on the black surface of the lab table, watching her work, fascinated that all of this . . . stuff made sense to her. "Okay, now what?"  
  
Frustrated by the constant interruptions, Sam stopped her work to look at him, his face a mix of eagerness and boredom, and then smiled. "You know, sir, you could gather up those supplies we need," she gently reminded him.  
  
"Oh, yeah. So, I should do that." Jack returned her smile, taking the hint. "Call me if you need me. Don't lift anything like you did yesterday, Carter. That's an order," he said before nearly skipping out the door despite his bum knee.  
  
She shook her head in amusement. Actually, she was surprised he'd lasted as long as he had. She'd had him clear the floor in her lab to give her more room to work, and then she'd sent him on a scavenger hunt looking for parts that she was missing for the additional naquadah reactor. Sam needed a break from him or she'd never finish the reactor. And she was feeling an urgency to leave that she hadn't shared.  
  
Her fear was that the longer they stayed in this reality, the further away they drifted from their own reality—like how throwing a stone in a pond caused ripples which spread into ever widening concentric circles the further away they moved from the point of the event. But, then, there was nothing that supported this theory. Of course, there was nothing that supported the fact that the gate had bounced them into an alternate reality, either.  
  
Sam sat up and rotated her head, stretching her tired neck muscles. At least they'd gotten hot showers this morning. The colonel had let her sleep in, waking her with hot coffee and MRE breakfast bars. Her bruised body was so stiff and sore from pushing herself too hard the day before that the colonel had to help her out of bed. The caffeine he'd brought helped, but it was the shower that had helped most.  
  
********  
  
"Carter!" Jack's voice crackled through her radio.  
  
Sam jumped, nearly dropping the soldering iron she was using on the reactor coil. She grabbed the radio from the table, "Sir?"  
  
"Where were you?" His concern was unmistakable, even through the static.  
  
Obviously a million miles away as her thoughts still lingered in the locker room. "Right here, sir. Bad transmission?" she asked. She'd been distracted all afternoon. Sam felt guilty; she didn't realize he'd been calling her until she'd heard her name for the third time  
  
"I've got the basics pulled together and in the control room, only what we can carry. How much longer at your end?"  
  
"Coming slowly, Colonel. I've had to reengineer a lot more than I expected."  
  
"Bottom line."  
  
"One more day, sir. At least."  
  
One more night alone with her, he thought. "You hungry?"  
  
She looked at her watch. Wow, she'd worked through lunch and it was bordering past a regular dinnertime. "You bet, sir."  
  
"I'll see what I can do. Out."  
  
Sam put her mind back on the task at hand. Building a naquadah reactor wasn't easy to begin with. Add to that having only half of the necessary parts at hand and then either hunting down or building what she was missing. She'd be surprised if she was able to finish by the end of the week much less by tomorrow. She just hoped that her plan would work and they'd make it home while they still could.  
  
*******  
  
The radio hissed to life, "Major," Jack called. Sam glanced back at her watch.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Care to join me in the commissary?"  
  
"Gee, colonel, I don't get room service again?"  
  
"Nope. If you're hungry, you're just going to have to shag your butt over here."  
  
"Yes, sir," she responded. After she rubbed her tired eyes, she straightened her work area and turned off the lights before she left her lab. She made her way through the darkened hallways lit only by the emergency lighting. To conserve the first generator's power, she'd scaled back the areas to which the power was used.  
  
Sam took the stairs to the commissary since the elevators were still inoperable and pushed through the double doors into an inviting candlelit room. Jack was nowhere to be seen, but he'd clearly outdone himself. He'd set the table with a white bed sheet, "Property of USAF" clearly emblazoned down the center of the table, and with candles he'd pilfered from Teal'c's room. Two place settings had been laid out, two disposable cups and, surprisingly, a bottle of bourbon next to two bottled waters.  
  
Stunned, she was still standing in the doorway when Jack entered from the kitchen carrying plates. "Wow," Sam finally said and was rewarded by a huge grin from him. The spicy smell of hot food filled the air and her hunger overcame her speechlessness, "What is that?"  
  
"Pull up a chair, major, and find out for yourself," he said evasively, setting the plates on the table.  
  
She sat down across from him and smiled. Spaghetti in red sauce. Packaged breadsticks. "What? No salad?"  
  
"It's all I could find that's not expired, soup, or MREs," he said. "I thought that this might be the last chance we had for a real sit-down meal for a while . . . depending."  
  
"No faith in me, sir?"  
  
"I got a lot of faith in you, major," Jack said while swirling noodles around his fork. "I just know how Murphy works, that's all."  
  
"Gotta love Murphy, sir," Sam answered. "He certainly keeps things interesting."  
  
"That he does, major," he said, sucking in a mouthful of spaghetti.  
  
"But whiskey with spaghetti?"  
  
"You'd think there'd be a bottle of wine somewhere on this base," he said, smiling. "You can thank General Hammond for this. I raided his stash," Jack poured some into each cup.  
  
"Hammond keeps liquor in his office?"  
  
"Yeah," Jack confirmed. "Just between us—he keeps it there for emergencies, like when Kinsey pulled the plug on us that first year. Twelve-year-old Tennessee Bourbon. He has good taste," he said, tipping his cup against hers.  
  
"I'm glad Kinsey's his yardstick. If he kept it for the times he's thought we'd been lost, the man would be an alcoholic by now." Jack nearly choked on the shot he'd just thrown back. "Oh, sorry, sir. You okay?"  
  
Jack's eyes watered as he waved two fingers at her. "Fine, major," he croaked.  
  
Sam tossed back the bourbon, her eyes tearing up as the liquor set her chest on fire before spreading it's warmth through her. Jack refilled their cups and they started eating. She filled Jack in on the details of her progress with the reactor. He did the same, listing the necessary items he'd culled together to take through the gate. She still had to test the gate to make sure the planet's coordinates still worked. Jack watched Sam's eyes sparkle in the candlelight as she animatedly discussed the need to print off a list of coordinates to other worlds, just in case they couldn't get home and they had to hunt for a safe world on which to take refuge. As time went on, her cheeks began to flush slightly, too, warmed by the whiskey, no doubt.  
  
When they'd finished the meal, Jack took their plates back into the kitchen.  
  
"I'll help." Sam offered, standing.  
  
"Not a chance, major. I'll be right back"  
  
Carter took her seat and picked up her cup, filling it again and nearly finishing off Hammond's bourbon. Wow. She didn't remember the colonel having more than a glass or two of this. She hadn't realized she'd drunk so much of it. She wasn't normally a drinker. But the alcohol had relaxed her and worked as a mild painkiller. The stiffness in her shoulders and across her back wasn't nearly as bothersome as it had been. She closed her eyes briefly and enjoyed the tingly, buzzing sensation running through her body.  
  
When Jack returned, he kept his hands hidden behind his back. He saw puzzlement and curiosity cross her features. "Pick," he said cryptically.  
  
"Left."  
  
Jack brought both hands around and gave her what he had hidden in his left. He saw her puzzlement melt into surprise and was rewarded with a smile.  
  
"Chocolate pudding? Where did you find this?" she asked while she pulled the sealed plastic lid off the small tub.  
  
"Where do you think?"  
  
"Daniel?" she exclaimed. "I'm going to have to sneak into his office more often. He stashes the best stuff." She moaned in delight from her first spoonful of the sweet dessert. "You're not having some?"  
  
"Nope. That was it. Only one left."  
  
"No, no, no. That's not fair, sir. Here," she scooped up a glob and stretched her arm across the table.  
  
"Carter, that's okay. It's yours," he started to push her hand away, but she rose out of her seat to nearly force the stuff in his face. Laughing, he relented and opened his mouth, allowing her to share. He savored the taste. It was good. "Okay, Carter, give me that." Jack took the spoon away from her as shifted in his seat to lean in closer. Spooning up a dollop of chocolate, he held it out to feed to her.  
  
"No," she protested, giggling as he danced the spoon in front of her.  
  
"Turnabout's fair play, Carter," he said, moving the spoon in closer to her lips. She grabbed his hand in an attempt to control him and ended up with pudding just outside of her mouth from the battle. "Here, major, let me." Jack reached up to her face to wipe away the chocolate with his thumb, and then sat back in his chair, as he tasted the sweetness.  
  
Oh, God, Sam thought, watching Jack suck the chocolate from his thumb. Her heart thudded as if it would break out of her chest. This was getting way out of hand. She nervously placed the pudding cup back on the table and crossed her arms in front of her to lean forward on the table on her elbows. "Colonel," she said, sobering a bit. "Thanks for this. It's been nice."  
  
He ate a spoonful of pudding and continued to stare at her. Her eyes were large and luminous, pupils dilated as much from her arousal as from the alcohol. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Jack also knew that he wasn't doing a good job of hiding his desire for her either.  
  
"I, uh, I'm going . . . to turn in now," she stammered. "Before we . . . uhm . . . Good night." She stood up quickly and the room swam a bit.  
  
Jack realized he didn't want her to leave. He wasn't ready to end their flirtation. He scooped up the last bite of pudding, "You sure you don't want the rest?" Jack teased her, waving the spoon temptingly in the air. She stared at him before giving up and reaching out to take the spoon from him.  
  
"Uh, nope, Carter. Don't think so," he pulled the spoon back.  
  
A tremor of excitement rushed through her as Sam realized he wanted to feed it to her again. What the hell, it's only pudding, she thought. She leaned over, hands braced on the table, and opened her mouth as he tormented her again with the spoon before giving her the dessert. She sucked the chocolate from the spoon, tugging on it before letting him have it back.  
  
When she pushed off of the table, the room dipped again. Giggling, because of their flirting and the fact that she couldn't leave the room with the grace she'd wanted, she said, "I think I've had a little too much to drink."  
  
"Let me help you back, Carter," he suggested. When he blew out the candles, he glanced at the nearly empty bottle that she'd killed. "I don't think you'll make it in the stairwell by yourself." He wrapped an arm over her shoulders. "Let's go to bed, major."  
  
His words sent a shiver through her. She guessed he was still teasing her, given their recent sleeping arrangements. Carter threw her caution to the wind and her arm around his waist, leaning into the warmth of his embrace. He felt so good and she felt so good from the whiskey. Not a good combination, a voice within her head screamed. She pointedly ignored that voice, choosing, for once, to do what felt good rather than what was logical.  
  
They made it back to Teal'c's room faster than she imagined possible. Sam stumbled when they crossed the threshold and Jack's arm tightened around her holding her steady. She blindly reached out to switch on the lights only to have him stop her. He tangled his fingers with hers, turning her to face him in the darkness.  
  
"Jack," she whispered his name like a warning. Sam had no idea what was going to happen, but she knew she neither had the will nor the desire to stop it. His free hand rested at her waist, stilling any possible flight. As she warily lowered her head, afraid to meet his face, Sam felt him brush his lips against her forehead. She rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart tap in a heated rhythm under her fingertips.  
  
Jack held her gently, savoring the sensation of her nearness. Stepping closer to her, he moved his hand from her waist to her back to lazily trace his fingers over her spine. As Jack touched her, he scarcely could hear her breathe and he felt her body stiffen in apprehension. Jack knew this was wrong, but hell, he didn't want to fight it anymore. He was so tired of fighting it.  
  
"Sam," he said, "I want to kiss you . . . you don't know how much."  
  
"I think I do," she answered, swallowing hard. "We can't."  
  
"We can."  
  
She dropped her head against his shoulder, rolling it from side to side in silent frustration. "The regs."  
  
"We aren't in our time, Carter." Jack bent down to nuzzle at her cheek, her neck. "We'll either make it home where this . . . can't happen. Or we won't. Either way, I don't want to lose this chance."  
  
Sam shut her eyes tightly, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill over. She squeezed his hand before attempting to pull away. But he held on, he wouldn't let her go. "Carter, you know how I feel," he rasped, his voice hoarse with emotion.  
  
"And you know how I feel," she said softly. "I can't do casual, sir. Never could."  
  
"God, Sam! Do you think you could ever be casual to me?" He let go of her hand to cup her face gently in his hand. The tears he found surprised him. Tenderly, Jack raised her to look at him. "Sam, we may only have now," he said, his lips hovering just over hers. "But as much as I want this—want you--it's your call."  
  
Sam trembled under his touch, a war raging between her head and her heart and she knew that she'd likely regret her decision. She slipped her hand from his chest to hold the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. She felt him stiffen, shocked as their lips touched, then relax as their kiss deepened, her mouth opening to his. She moaned softly into his mouth as his tongue teased and explored her mouth and he was overwhelmed by the sweet taste of chocolate and of bourbon and of her. Jack couldn't get enough her.  
  
He moved his hand from her face to her hair, his fingers sliding through the short locks, his other arm crushing her to him, and Sam felt the hard evidence of his need for her as she clutched him tightly, her knees weak as much from Jack as from the whiskey buzz.  
  
Jack yanked at her shirt, pulling it out of her pants, intent on stripping her of it, and then slipped his hands under it, groaning when he found bandages instead of skin. Jack needed to touch her, to feel her soft skin. He began to slowly back her up, forcing her to sit on the bed when she felt it behind her legs. He nudged his good knee between her legs, breaking free from her mouth for only a moment to ease her shirt over her head. Breathing heavily, Jack helped Sam to lie back on the bed and he followed her, his weight carefully balanced over as to not injure her further as he reclaimed her mouth.  
  
Sam struggled with his shirt, wanting to feel him as much as he did her, finally tugging it free from his waistband. She ran her hands under his shirt, marveling at the strength she felt, the silkiness of his warm skin. Sitting up, Jack obliged her by pulling it off and flinging it across the room. He settled again on the bed beside her. Nearly face to face, Jack's hands trembled as he gathered her as close to him as he dared, still conscious of her injuries and he kissed her lips, her face, her throat, all the while memorizing the feel of her.  
  
Sam gingerly touched his furred chest with her fingers, sliding her hand down to his taut stomach and then back to his shoulders. The light fur of his chest tickled the parts of her not covered by bra or bandage. The shock of skin against skin stunned Carter. Surprised by the intense feelings washing over her, the incredible urge to feel him inside of her, Sam realized they had to slow down.  
  
"Jack," she gasped, tugging at his hair as his lips traveled across her chest to stop over a bra-covered breast. The moist heat of his mouth burned through the thin material.  
  
"Carter," he said against the perfect bud that had formed under his touch.  
  
"Jack, please," she begged.  
  
He took that as an invitation, his fingers slipping, teasing, under her bra strap, playing with the length of it before tugging it down, his lips and tongue moving to follow the imaginary line where it had been.  
  
"Sir!" she said more forcefully, breathing hard as much from need as from the need to stop.  
  
That word hit Jack like a bucket of ice water, stopping him cold. He dropped his head against her chest, breathing hard.  
  
"Jack, what happens tomorrow?" she asked.  
  
He inwardly groaned at her question. Didn't she ever do anything without thinking? "We deal with it."  
  
"And, when we get home?"  
  
"If we get home, we go back to being friends."  
  
"And you can do that? Just . . . turn it off?"  
  
"If I have to," he said more brusquely than he'd intended. He shifted off of her, rolling more to her side than he'd been. "And I wouldn't 'turn it off.' Just put it away until . . ."  
  
"But Daniel? Teal'c?"  
  
"What about them? I don't want to sleep with them. This has nothing to do with them!"  
  
"Doesn't it? What happens if we take this further and the next time we're on a mission you're forced to choose between one of them and me?"  
  
"I've had to make that choice before, Carter, and I damned near killed you." The pain he still dealt with from zatting her twice was evident in his voice.  
  
"No, sir, you killed the entity inside me."  
  
"Carter, I very nearly blew up that nest it'd sent you to,"  
  
"And if you had, it wouldn't have been your fault. You didn't know."  
  
Jack changed tactics. "Sam, if it ever came down to a true choice between any of us, I would make the right decision," he said firmly. "And it wouldn't be based on having gotten in your pants."  
  
"And the right decision would be . . ."  
  
"Same as it has always been. No one gets left behind on my command."  
  
"'Your command,'" she spat, pushing him away to sit up and pull her bra back into place. "You self-serving . . . you'd sacrifice yourself, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Damn straight, major! If I had to. If it meant getting you—and them—back safely," Jack countered. "But that has nothing to do with this," he said more gently, tracing a finger from her cheek down her throat to the sensitive skin of her chest.  
  
His touch burned her skin. As much as she ached for more, she couldn't let the argument go. "You don't think I'm going to get us home alive, do you?" she asked. His silence was louder than any answer could have been. "You have that little faith in me?"  
  
"No. I've placed my life in your hands before, Carter. I have no doubt we'll be outta here tomorrow." He continued to caress her. His finger outlined her collarbone, sending tingles throughout her body.  
  
"But, you don't think we'll get back to our reality."  
  
"I don't know." Jack lightly kissed her on the lips, reassuring her. "I wish to God I knew how this—how we—turn out, but I don't, Carter." He paused to carefully consider his words. "I do know this. Whether or not we take this further, we've already gone too far. We went too far when I thought I lost you on Hathor's planet. And when you were behind that damn force field when Anise's armbands quit working and again we had to admit our feelings in front of a roomful of others. And I know I go too far every time I look at you across that conference table."  
  
Jack found her hand and wound his fingers through hers, pulling them up to his lips to kiss. "Sam, I need you in my life so much it hurts. And if tonight is all we're ever given," he said softly, "I don't want regrets. I've got way too many as it is. Please. Don't make me add you to that list."  
  
Speechless from his honesty, tears coursed down Sam's cheeks as he said words she never thought she'd be privileged to hear. Sam touched his face and found dampness on his cheek. When he pressed his lips into the palm of her hand, her resolve shattered. She kissed him, tasting his lips with her tongue and moaning softly when he opened his mouth under her touch. Surrendering to deepening waves of emotion, Sam began to drown again within his arms.  
  
****  
  
The next morning Sam woke to find Jack curled up behind her, her head resting in the crook of his elbow, his other arm flung low across her waist. She winced when she tried to move, stiff from the position in which she'd slept. They still lay on top of the comforter, and she was chilled where her skin was exposed. Forcing herself to get up, she eased out of his arms and off the bed as quietly as she could. Sam stood by the bed for a moment to watch him sleep, his dark lashes fluttered against his weathered cheeks, obviously in a dream state, before she went into the bathroom.  
  
Shutting the door behind her and flipping on the light, Sam stared at herself in the mirror. Her lips were pink and puffy and tender, red splotches peppered her cheeks, chest and neck where his day-old beard had rubbed. She brushed her teeth and when she was done she let the water run until it was warmer before splashing it on her face. Somewhat refreshed, she turned off the tap and sat down on the toilet seat, pulling her legs up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around the rough material of her pants and propped her chin on her knees, leaning on the wall for support.  
  
For all their arguing about "it," they'd done nothing more than touch and kiss, cry and talk. She'd learned more about Jack in one night than she had during the past five years. She told him of losing her mom, her feelings of loss when he was trapped on Edora and the hurt she felt when she saw him with another after all she'd done to engineer his rescue. She talked of her mixed feelings about Martouf, the difficulty in separating Jolinar from the equation. He talked of Charlie and Sara, more of the good times rather than the loss, of giving up on a rescue from Edora and of trying to make a new life on what he thought would be his final home, of the overwhelming guilt from having to zat her and of his helplessness watching her lying lifeless hooked up to those machines.  
  
Sam turned crimson when she thought of Jack's hands and where they'd roamed. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have a man's fingers touching her. Shivers ran through her when she remembered being cradled in his arms, crying out his name against his lips as they kissed.  
  
She tried to explain her fears, why she wasn't ready to make love to him. She needed to keep a barrier between them. She knew that letting him in completely scared the hell out of her. And as much as she needed him, too, she also carried the fear that she would lose him. She felt safer holding part of herself back than taking the risk and then losing him.  
  
And, then, she fell asleep cradled within his arms.  
  
God, hiding in the bathroom wasn't helping. She could close her eyes and revisit last night. Her heart raced now as it had then just thinking about the intimacies they'd shared.  
  
"Carter?" Jack rapped lightly at the door, "You okay?"  
  
"Yes, sir," she answered. Sam stood up and looked at her face again. Okay, Sam, she thought, get over it. Put it away, you've got work to do. You've got to get us home. She scrubbed her hands through her wild hair before she opened the door, a timid smile on her face. "Good morning."  
  
Jack's eyes crinkled as he smiled back, "Yes, it is." His close-cropped hair stood at odd angles, and his face was badly in need of a shave. He'd never looked more handsome. Sam slipped into his arms, rested her head against his bare chest, and closed her eyes, sighing in contentment. She just needed to hold him one more time before locking away the past few days.  
  
He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go of her either. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she'd been right about putting on the brakes. They may not have consummated their relationship the way he'd wanted, but he knew they'd get there someday. And when they did, they wouldn't have to continue to hide their feelings for each other. "Come on," he said. "We've got to get a move on, time's a-wasting."  
  
"I need to grab a shower first."  
  
"I'll scrounge up some coffee and meet you in the locker room. Do you need help with this?" he asked, lightly running his hand over the loosened bandages.  
  
"Only to rewrap me, I think. I don't think your wrap job held up very well last night," Sam teased shyly. She reluctantly pulled out of his embrace and went to find her t-shirt, before quietly heading for the door.  
  
"Sam?" he whispered, calling her back. "We okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so. Ask me again when we get home," she replied before closing the door behind her.  
  
*****  
  
While Carter worked silently to finish the second reactor, Jack brought her fresh coffee, checked to see if he could help, and rubbed her shoulders and neck. She had him print out the log of planet designations and coordinates—one less thing for her to worry about.  
  
After that, he decided to go through Daniel's office to see if he could find out if the quantum mirror had been found by this reality's SG-1. If they hadn't found it, the quantum mirror might still exist. And, if Sam's plan didn't work, they still might be able to get back home if they could locate it. God, he hoped that's what he would find, because then he'd have a back-up plan to Sam's Plan B. And Jack really didn't want to be caught without a plan.  
  
He sat at Daniel's desk, turned on the desk lamp, and looked around. Daniel liked keeping his notes in a handwritten journal—a hold over from his days in the field. So, where would Daniel put his old journals? Jack rifled the desk drawers, thumbing through its contents. When he hadn't found anything, he stood in front of one of Daniel's bookcases. After a moment, he began pulling books from the shelves one at a time, scanned their contents, and then tossed them onto a nearby table.  
  
Jack hoped to find a journal in which this Daniel referenced SG-1 going to 236, but Daniel hadn't touched the mirror. He might have even catalogued the contents of the room or made mention of the mirror. Past that, Jack hoped he wouldn't find anything. No mention of that world at all. Then, the mirror should still be there, undiscovered, just waiting for Jack and Sam to pick up the controller and dial home.  
  
As he sorted through the stacks of books, Jack realized he didn't like what he was feeling. Doubt. She was right. He doubted Carter's plans. Hell, how many times had her plans ever gone wrong?  
  
But, there's always a first time for everything, he thought.  
  
This was prudent. He didn't doubt her ability to blow the facility, but if Sam's gate-skipping didn't work, Jack wanted to have another plan to get them home. And he feared that the Quantum mirror had been destroyed in this reality which would make going home impossible.  
  
******  
  
Sam finished running several test protocols and finally was satisfied that the second reactor would work in the manner she wanted. Reluctant to drag another reactor through the stairwell, she went to the control room. She planned to temporarily route power from the first reactor to the elevator. She stood at the computers overlooking the Stargate, lost in thought. This would all be gone in a few more hours, decimated by her hand.  
  
Pursing her lips, she tried to shake off her feelings of foreboding and began keying in the commands to redirect power to the elevators. She also shut off other areas that they weren't going to need access to again, like the kitchen, the infirmary, Teal'c's room. Finishing at the computer, she headed back to her lab, this time using the elevator, and radioed Jack to meet her at her lab. She'd need his help to move the reactor to the gate level.  
  
She smiled when she saw him leaning against the door facing of her lab. "Surprised you beat me here," she said. "I took the elevator."  
  
"Well, I was already in the stairwell on my way here when you called," he opened the door for her and followed her in. "So, that's it, huh?" he nodded toward the metallic cylinder set within a square housing, coils and controls snaking around it. It was smaller than he'd have thought, about the size of a small microwave oven.  
  
"Yep. This baby's packed with all of the naquadah left on base. It should cause one heck of a bang."  
  
"So, it's heavy?"  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Sam asked. Jack grinned in response. "I just need your help moving it to the hand truck, Colonel, and then to put it in place in the control room."  
  
"Okay, let's do it," he said, walking over to the table. "You gonna be able to move this?"  
  
"Do I have a choice?" Sam answered as she chose her side of the reactor.  
  
"All right, on three," Jack found his handholds and locked his eyes with her. "You ready?" She nodded. "One . . . two . . ." They lifted the reactor and quickly set it in place on the hand truck.  
  
"Oh my God, that hurt!" Sam groaned, letting go of her end as quickly as she could to hug her ribs. "It's been days since we went through the gate. How long does it take before it quits hurting?"  
  
"A while, and that's with Frasier's 'no doing anything' policy."  
  
"Which we don't have the luxury of here."  
  
"You betcha," Jack agreed. He pulled her into an embrace, careful to hug her across her shoulders, lightly stroking her back to relieve her tension. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. God, she could get so used to this.  
  
She exhaled slowly, "Thanks."  
  
"No prob. It's what I live for," he smiled. They held each other quietly, knowing that their time together was limited. "We, ah . . ."  
  
"Yeah, we better," she agreed leaving the comfort of his arms.  
  
Jack pushed the hand truck through the door, "Want a ride, major?" he joked.  
  
"No, thanks. You go ahead. I'll catch up." Sam watched the door shut, Jack whistling as he pushed the reactor down the corridor. Shaking her head, she went to her desk and retrieved the journal that the other Sam so lovingly kept. Carter looked around the room one last time, checking for anything else that she might need, and then turned out the light quietly pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The wormhole disengaged with its usual sucking sound. She'd connected to PL3-93X to both check the amount of time it would take to establish the wormhole and to ensure that the gate still existed on the other side. They got a lock and a stable wormhole, just like she'd hoped.  
  
"That's it, Jack, I'm done," Sam announced, rubbing at her back as she got up from the computer in the control room.  
  
"That's it?" he repeated.  
  
"Yes, sir. It's good to go, sir. All that's left to do is to set the countdown for the self-destruct and turn on the second reactor. It'll take about 35 minutes to reach critical mass."  
  
"Critical mass?"  
  
"Boom."  
  
"Ah. Go on."  
  
"Well, I've calculated the amount of time we need to dial out safely. We'll have to move fast once the wormhole's established, but it shouldn't be a problem," she said with an air of confidence that belied her own doubts.  
  
"Okay." Jack rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, before we do this, let me look at your ribs one more time, Major." Sam opened her mouth to argue, but Jack cut her off. "Carter, who knows what we're going into? Neither of us is battle-ready and moving the reactor earlier didn't do you any favors. Humor me, will ya?"  
  
She sat back down and raised her t-shirt to expose the elastic bandages. Jack quickly unwrapped the bandages and ran his fingers over her fading bruises.  
  
"Ahh," she gasped.  
  
"Tender?"  
  
"A little," Sam turned to look over her shoulder at Jack. Something in his voice said he'd postpone this in a heartbeat if he thought she wasn't ready. "I don't want to wait to do this, Jack. Don't ask me why, but I feel like we need to leave."  
  
"Ready to get rid of me already, Carter?" Jack took out a tube from one of the packs he'd stored in the room.  
  
"No, not really," she admitted. "But it's time."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He heard her draw in a sharp breath and hold it as he rubbed in the cream. Jack worked quietly, wiping his hands on his trousers when he was finished. He picked up the bandage and began rewrapping her. He was getting quite good at this, he thought. Fraiser would be so proud. "Okay, Sam, that's it," he pulled the t-shirt from her fingers to smooth it back in place.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Jack stood up and stretched. "I'll carry these down to the gate room. Go ahead and get started," he ordered, picking up a bag of supplies and their P-90's.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"Colonel," Carter called through the intercom into the gate room. "I need you up here to enter the self-destruct codes." Jack waved at her then sat their weapons at the base of the ramp. He pushed his baseball cap back on his head and surveyed the gate room. Well, one way or another, in about 35 minutes this place would be gone. He jogged up the stairs to the control room, trying not to wince when his knee complained.  
  
"Okay, sir, I've located Hammond's and a second officer's codes."  
  
"What about mine?"  
  
"Erased after your death," she answered.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Now, sir," she entered Hammond's pass code first, followed by Jack. She held her breath when the codes were accepted. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she reset the computer's timer to the time it would take for the reactor to reach critical mass. "Okay. Now for the reactor." She went to it and punched in a code on the numeric keypad. The LED timer she'd wired in counted backwards in time concurrently with the command computer. She stood up and reached for her blue blouse.  
  
"Done?"  
  
"Yeah. If you need a bathroom break, Colonel, I suggest you go now."  
  
"Very funny, major," he replied.  
  
Sam buttoned her blue overshirt and, with his help, eased on her black utility vest and belt. She ran her hand through her hair and then put on her cap. Since he'd already geared up, Jack sat back and watched as she looked through her pack.  
  
"Lose something?"  
  
"Uhm, no. Just double-checking, sir."  
  
Over the past hour, they'd slipped back into their respective military roles; their passion from the night before going back into hiding. He'd said they'd go back to being friends. He didn't realize how easily they'd fall back into this comfortable rhythm. When Sam finished, she sat down and propped up her feet on an empty chair.  
  
"Now what?" he asked.  
  
"Now, we wait."  
  
After a few minutes of sitting quietly in the control room while Carter scanned her time calculations, Jack abruptly got up. Carter looked up quizzically.  
  
"I, uh, think I will . . . hit the john before," he mumbled, ducking out of the room.  
  
Sam chuckled quietly. She knew him too well.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Carter! Let's go! Do it," Jack encouraged impatiently. He stood at the foot of the ramp below the gate and stared up her through the glass of the control room. The synthesized computer voice counted down the remaining time until the self-destruct, and there wasn't much of it left.  
  
"Not yet, colonel!" Sam called back through the microphone.  
  
Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Not yet, major?" he repeated as the countdown dropped closer to detonation. How close was she going to cut this? "CARTER!"  
  
Sam waited for a few more seconds before punching in the address for PL3- 93X. She looked up from the computer screen to see the inner ring of the Stargate begin to spin. Okay, Sam. That's it. Let's go home, she thought. She glanced around the room, a pang of regret and guilt about the destruction she'd just triggered.  
  
"Yes!" Jack yelled, spinning around to see the chevrons engaging. He looked to the door, expecting to see Carter. "Carter?"  
  
The wormhole engaged, it's blue vortex swirling and expanding outward before springing back to form a glistening, rippling surface. Jack picked up his pack and their weapons, touched the Zats he'd strapped to his utility belt, and started up the ramp. His lips were thin and drawn as the claxons began to ring out signaling the final moments before . . . Where the hell was she?  
  
"Finally! Let's go, major," he ordered, visibly relaxing as she ran up the ramp.  
  
"Sorry, sir. I left something in the control room," she apologized, patting the backpack she carried as she caught up to him. "You ready?"  
  
"You kidding?"  
  
The voice hit '10.'  
  
"On four we step, colonel," Sam told him again, walking closer to the event horizon. Jack took her free hand in his and gripped it tightly.  
  
"6 . . .5. . . 4"  
  
"Go!" they both yelled leaping through the gate, enveloped by the familiar whoosh and icy cold of spiraling through space. Again, like the last time, it felt different—the velocity was wrong, the ride was too rough, something indiscernible. Within a few seconds, they were spat out of the gate onto the crumbling dais of the planet from which they'd escaped only a few days earlier.  
  
Only they had returned to a torrential rainstorm . . . and landed in mud. Lots of it. Jack flew through the gate a millisecond before Carter, still holding her hand. He instinctively pulled her with him as he rolled in front of her, absorbing the impact of their landing. Thin muddy water splashed up when they hit, followed by thicker, gooier muck. They came to a stop with Sam lying on top of Jack. Both were so stunned to still be alive, much less back where they'd intended, that neither moved.  
  
"You okay?" he asked, blinking the rain and mud from his eyes.  
  
"Yes, sir. You?"  
  
Jack dropped his head back in the puddle and closed his eyes, as if that helped him identify any potential hurts. His warm brown eyes reopened with a crinkle, "Just peachy, Major." Raising his head, he smiled up at her; mud splattered across her face like freckles. She'd never looked more beautiful. "You did it."  
  
"Well, we're still alive, if that's what you mean," Sam struggled to get off of him. She tossed her pack onto a chunk of stone and then slid to his side to clumsily push herself upright, trying to baby her bruised ribs.  
  
Jack stood more easily, and then took her hands and pulled her up. "We are back in our reality, aren't we?" he asked, suddenly unsure. Something seemed off, and it wasn't the weather.  
  
Sam smiled as she extended a muddy hand. Held within was a spent casing from one of their weapons, the rain rinsing away the muck that covered it. "This wouldn't be here if we weren't."  
  
"God, I love plan B," Jack said. "Let's go home, Carter. Before the locals realize we're back."  
  
Sam quickly dialed up the coordinates for Earth. When the wormhole stabilized, she input SG1's IDC code to deactivate the defense iris. "You ready?" she asked again, as she had before leaving the alternate SGC.  
  
This time, Jack's face softened. He softly stroked her face, wiping a bit of the muck off, but also wanting to touch her without guilt one last time. "No," he answered honestly. "But it's home."  
  
"Yes, sir," she agreed. "It is." Sam stepped closer to him and rose up on her toes to brush her lips against his.  
  
"We'll figure something out, Sam. Or— "  
  
"I know, Jack."  
  
They kissed again briefly; a kiss filled with all they couldn't say. "We, uh,"  
  
"Yes, sir. I'm sure they're worrying by now." Sam picked up her pack and tucked it under an arm.  
  
Together, they stepped into the wormhole for the trip home.  
  
*****  
  
Exiting the Stargate, the first thing they noticed was the claxons ringing incessantly. And then people. People with guns. Aimed at them.  
  
Jack pulled his baseball cap off his head and shook the rain from it, slapping it against his leg and flinging muddy water across the ramp. "Lucy! We're home!" he called loudly in a fake Cuban accent.  
  
Daniel skidded through the door to the gateroom, Teal'c close on his heels. Stunned, Daniel stood staring, looking from Carter to Jack, then finally back to Carter. "You . . . you're alive?" he stammered.  
  
"You bet," Jack said. "Gee, Daniel. Did you miss us?"  
  
Teal'c looked just as stunned as Daniel. "But how is this possible?"  
  
Daniel shook his head and hesitantly walked up the ramp to Sam. He stared at her as if she were a ghost. "I don't know, Teal'c, but . . . thank God," he said, his voice scarcely a whisper and his eyes filled with tears. He grasped her face gently with trembling hands and kissed her; a long, deep hungering kiss. Hugging her close to him in an intimate, familiar way, he murmured, "Sam, I thought I'd lost you."  
  
Sam's froze within his embrace. "Daniel? What's going on here?" she asked, too taken aback to move.  
  
After watching the younger man plant one on Carter, Jack shared her shocked expression. "Yeah, Daniel, what is going on?"  
  
"That's just what I'd like to know," General Hammond said, entering the room. "Who the hell are you people?"  
  
The End  
  
Check back for part 2  
  
Skipped Stones: Coming Home 


End file.
